


When Did It Actually Started

by FandomsMadeMe



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Aged Up, Beverley knows everything, F/M, M/M, Modern AU, Richie is great with his secrets, Richie sucks at crushes, Secret Crush, Stanley is clueless, basically I'm bullying Richie, could be sexual in the future idk, i don't really know how to tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-03-24 08:06:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13807038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomsMadeMe/pseuds/FandomsMadeMe
Summary: He never really knew when it started— maybe it was in the middle of summer as they were hanging out by the quarry, or maybe when he was annoying Stan as he was bird watching, or maybe when he was dared to describe the person he might actually like in a dare, and the first words that came out from his mouth were “Hair like noodles.”In short, a story where Richie realized he actually likes a certain Jewish.





	1. Chapter 1

#### Chapter 1

Without trying to be obvious, Richie hid behind a comic book, he’s not even sure if it’s Batman or Spiderman, and watched a certain noodle haired boy. Richie noted that unlike the rest of them, excluding Beverley who was reading a magazine, he was reading another one of his bird books.

Richie’s eyes roamed from the boy’s curls—that he found himself wanting to run his hands through, to his high cheekbones, and down to his lips. Richie unconsciously bit the lower part of his lip as the said boy was doing the same thing. He probably came across a fact about birds he’d like to keep in mind.

Richie’s eyes continued to study the teenager, even though he would always do this every time they hang out at the quarry, or at any place for the matter, he still feels like it’s the only thing worth doing. He never really knew when it started— maybe it was in the middle of summer as they were hanging out by the quarry, or maybe when he was annoying Stan as he was bird watching, or maybe when he was dared to describe the person he might actually like in a dare, and the first words that came out from his mouth were “Hair like noodles.”

But Richie was sure at one thing: he likes Stan. In his sixteen years of life, he ended up liking Stan.

It sound ridiculous, especially from him, the person who was nicknamed Trashmouth, the person who won’t stop talking about screwing their moms, the person who would always say ‘Just look at the size of that rack!’ whenever a girl would pass by. It was just so ridiculous.

And yet here it was.

There was nothing wrong with liking a guy, considering that most of his friends are either gay or bi. But it’s Stan for crying out loud, the guy would rather walk naked to school rather than ride in a car with him.

_Unrequited love sucks._

Out of nowhere, Richie groaned as the other Losers gave him a startled glance, including Stan.

It was already too late when realize what he did.

“Wuh-what’s the matter?” Bill asked a new comic book in hand.

“I was just recreating the sound I made with Eddie’s mom last night,” Richie said, wiggling his eyebrows at Eddie who was sitting at one of the rocks near Bill. For some reasons, Richie knew there’s something going on between the two.

Bill rolled his eyes, “Forget I a-asked,” 

“Beep beep asshole!” Eddie threw a pebble at Richie who simply dodged it “why the fuck is it always my mom anyway?”

“ ‘Cuz she’s big,” Richie answered nonchalantly. “And big means a big set of—”

“Beep fucking beep Richie," This time a shoe actually hit Richie on the forehead.

Richie rubbed the spot where Eddie’s shoe had hit him as Eddie’s voice continued to scold him from the background, only Richie was too busy laughing.

It always felt great to rile up the little one.

“Knowing Richie, you never should have asked him in the first place,” Mike stated as he closed the comic book he had just finished.

“What are you talking about?” Richie asked, feigning ignorance, “I was just telling the truth.”

“Y-you’re nuh-nuh-not fooling anyone Ri-Richie,” Bill said.

“Anyone up for a drink? My dad’s out for the day and I think he left his alcohol supply unlocked,” Beverley asked out of the blue, Richie’s ears suddenly perked up. Underage drinking has always been an interesting thing to do. “Considering that I’m getting bored with this thing,” she gestured at the magazine in hand, “And all of you are talking about nothing new.”

“Nothing new?” Richie placed a hand in his heart, pretending hurt, “My sex-capades are nothing but old and boring.”

“Nor real,” Ben added.

For a moment, Richie’s eyes glanced towards Stan, expecting to see him watch the group’s little banter. But even though he was looking a minute ago, he was back to reading his book, obviously uninterested with the current events.

A small part of the pit of his stomach churned in hurt. This, again, was another ridiculous thing to feel.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea," Mike said, “Its fine if it’s still summer, but school just started.”

“Don’t worry, it won’t be that much,” Beverley assured, “I’m not that stupid. It’s going to be just for fun.”

“T-the last time yu-yu-you said that, I fah-found a video of Ri-Richie pissing at th-the front lawn of the B-Bowers in my phone,” Bill deadpanned.

Richie broke into a broad grin, “Yeah, those were good times.”

“That was because Richie got me to serve half of my dad’s alcohol,” Bev closed the magazine in hand and threw it at the pile near her feet, “I already learned my lesson.”

“Well, I’m down to it,” Richie declared, “You’re all just a bunch of chickens.”

Eddie sighed. “I’m coming, knowing Richie for twelve years is enough for me to realize that one babysitter isn’t enough,”

Richie risked another glance towards Stan, and was disappointed to see that his eyes were still glued at the bird book. _It would have been fine if his eyes were at me._

Richie mentally slapped himself.

“Stan the Man!” He called, “I know what your reading is actually playboy magazine disguised as a bird book, but would it kill ya’ to socialize for a minute?”

“I’m not going to drink with you guys, ever again,” was his only reply.

Richie smiled a little. So he was listening, at least.

It hasn’t been that long when the seven of them tried drinking for the first time, considering that they have always been curious ever since Henry bowers went to school hangover. To Richie, it was quite horrible, especially the first time. But it felt exciting to be able to do the things he’s not allowed and to get away with it— it was enough to fuel him to do it again. The others were fine; Ben and Mike knew when to stop, so they never got the wrong end of the stick with their parents when they got home. Eddie was smart enough to always spend the night at Bill’s, though he’d always get a good hour of scolding the next day from his mom, at least she never knew. Beverley doesn’t really give a shit about her dad. Bill, well, Richie never really knew how Bill handled things like drinking or being hangover, but one thing’s for sure, he never got caught.

Stanley, on the other hand, was one step away from getting murdered from his parents at one occasion.

Maybe that was over exaggeration, but he was really close from getting found out. If Mike wasn’t sober enough to stop Stan from continuing to drunken call his mom, then he would have been screwed. It was pure luck he was smart enough to spend his hangover ass at Richie’s and for his mom to believe that the call was a prank.

“I told you, it won’t be that much,” Beverley said.

“C’mon Stanny—”

“Don’t call me that,” Stan cut in, his eyes never leaving the book.

“— stop being such a kill joy.”

“I said, I’m not—” Richie lunged at him.

“What the shit!” Ben exclaimed as he ended up falling off from the rock he was sitting on, considering that he was closest to Stan.

On a normal occasion, they would have patted Ben on the back for cursing, it’s not every day they hear the guy say something foul. But the whole gang was too busy watching Richie tackle Stan.

Stan was screaming bloody murder as he wrestled Richie off of him. Knowing Richie since they were young, he knew this was his way of making him agree; make him uncomfortable as much as possible until he agrees.

“Richie what the f—” He ended up having a mouthful of his own hair in his mouth as they continued to wrestle on the ground.

Richie grabbed both of Stan’s wrists and pinned him down as soon as he got him laying on his back. With great effort, as it seems like Stan had made it his life ambition to kick Richie off of him, Richie wrapped his thighs around Stan’s waist, his knees digging on the ground as he straddled Jewish boy down. Even though Stan was taller, Richie was still the stronger between the two.

Stan spat his hair out of his mouth. “Richie, get the fuck off!” 

“Not until you say yes,” He replied.

Stan stopped struggling and settled on glaring at the bespectacled boy, “fuck you.”

On the background, Richie could hear Beverley say, “So we’re dealing with this now?” Richie had some sort of witty remark to reply, but realization dawned on him that made him shut his mouth.

_I’m straddling Uris._

It's not the same with what he had always imagined inside his head, but considering that Stan’s face were mere inches away from his own, enough that their breath mix, got him nervous all of a sudden. He could hear his own heartbeat in his ears, his heart ramming in his rib cage.

He could feel his face going all hot— he won’t even be surprised if his face was going all red. But considering that summer hasn’t really left yet and the sun was still high up, Richie knew he can create a good excuse.

_Whose idea was this again?_

Richie swallowed and forced a mocking smile on his face, as if his stomach wasn’t feeling like the goddamn zoo. “C’mon Stanny boy, or else I’ll kiss you.”

_I want to kiss you._

“For fuck’s sake Richie,” Stan groaned, “get off already!”

_I really want to kiss you._

“Not unless you say yes.”

_I wish I could kiss you._

“Never in a billion years!”

“Did you know that this was the same position I was with Mrs. K last night?”

“Stan, for your and our well being, just fucking say yes!” Eddie exclaimed.

Stan let out a loud disapproving groan. “Okay, fine!” He cried out. “Now get off already!”

For a minute, Richie didn’t want to. He wanted stay that way, he wanted to lean down and kiss him, like how his daydreams would always lead to. But like how it always goes with Stan, Richie smiled and eventually let go.

“See, it wasn’t that hard,” Richie said, ignoring the weird sensation in his knees that was preventing him to stand up straight as he stood up. “I know you want to get your hands on this delicious beast, but you don’t have to play hard to get. All you have to really do is ask.”

Stan glared at Richie as he stood up, patting off the dirt the clung on the back of his shirt and proceeded to tuck it in his khakis as it got loose from the previous wrestling match. “In your dreams, Tozier.”

The comeback was lame, as with all Stanley’s retorts towards Richie’s obnoxious comments. But even so, Richie knew Stanley was right. The thing that he wishes to have with Stanley can only be possible in his dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there lovelies, it's my first story here in AO3 and i hope i didn't bore you all. I know it's not much, and so does the few chapters coming up next, but I assure you it'll get better really soon. 
> 
> Expect that the story won't be that accurate to the book, considering that it's been so long since I last read the book (and I'm too lazy to open it up again). So don't be surprised if most of the content are made up or was from the movie.
> 
> Leave a comment and tell me if you like it or not.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie can't keep secrets from Beverley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter is a bit boring, okay not boring but maybe just a filler, but I still hope you like it.

#### Chapter 2

Richie took a long drag from the cigar in between his lips.

It had been a long day, not just for Richie, but to the other Loser’s as well. Henry Bowers was ten times worse that morning, being held back another year may have finally taken a toll on him. Richie was sure Mike was regretting the fact that he decided to give up home school.

But if Richie was being honest with himself, he wasn’t frustrated because of Bowers. In fact, he’s been pretty frustrated with himself for a few days now.

For such a long time, Richie was able to hide his attraction to Stan just fine. But something inside him just clicked— or his attraction to Stan just went haywire, but if sitting next to Stan used to be alright, now he can’t even look at him before wanting to shut his heart down. Richie’s sure Bev could hear his heart with the look she gave him when they were having a movie marathon a few nights ago.

Or she just caught him looking way to long at Stan to be considered as normal.

Either way, he’s not so proud of himself, that’s how he ended up smoking up a storm outside his house at two in the morning on a school week. It sounds so shallow now that he was thinking about it, but liking someone can really screw you up. 

“Fuck!” Richie dropped the cigar which he left forgotten, leaving it to burn its way towards the tips of his fingers. “Shit that hurts.”

Using the sole of his worn out shoes, he rubbed the cigar on the pavement, his hands deep in his pockets. Even though the cigar was long turned to dust, Richie still found himself rubbing it on the ground. At first it was like stepping on an ant over and over again, then it was like stepping on a cockroach, next minute Richie was stomping his feet on the pavement as if it’s some creepy clown’s face.

_Unrequited love sucks._

* * *

“If you were going to cut class and ruin your lungs, you should have invited me.”

Richie didn’t even glance at the person who just arrived— he knew who it was anyway. Instead, he just pulled out the box of cigarettes and offered it to her.

Beverly grabbed one and pulled out her own lighter. She leaned on the wall next to Richie, who was looking at his feet as if his worn out sneakers were the most interesting thing in the world. She took a long drag, but after that, she didn’t initiate a conversation of some sort. It was quiet, and Richie didn’t like it. He knew there was an elephant they need to address.

A few hours ago, they were all hanging out by Bill’s locker and for some reasons Stan was looking a hundred times hotter than the last time Richie saw him, and that was yesterday. The stupid part was, Stan didn’t really changed at all, in fact he just went to school just the same. A tucked in shirt, pressed clothes, and the disk shaped hat sitting on his head. But to Richie, it wasn’t the same.

He knew he was falling hard for Stan.

And now Beverley knows.

He knew Beverly knew the minute she caught him looking at Stanley for the fifteenth time that morning.

It was his own fault to begin with; he just couldn’t get his eyes off of Stan. He knew that at any day, one of the Loser’s would pick up at the fact that their Trashmouth was ogling at Stan as if he’s the last cup of water in a desert. And yet he still wouldn’t stop himself from looking.

Beverly was a smart person. Sure she was oblivious at first, but again, no one can stay oblivious forever. Well maybe not for Stanley, he wouldn’t believe in unicorns even if it’s staring at his face. The look that she gave him when Richie realized that she caught him looking at Stan was all it took for him to realize his secret crush wasn’t so secret anymore.

“So,” _Oh shit, here it goes_. “Stan huh,”

Richie didn’t reply instantly, instead he took another long drag. No obnoxious remark can bail him out of this one. “Yeah, Stan”

“Honestly, I wasn’t expecting it,” _Me to_ , she took a drag and blew the smoke out of her nose. “But now that I think of it, it makes sense.”

Richie sighed and leaned his head on the wall; his eyes were instantly met with the calm sky. “I know there’s nothing wrong with it, but…” His voice trailed off. 

“But its Stan,” Bev finished. “I get what you mean.”

“I realized that when it hits you, it hits you really hard huh,” He watched a few birds fly by— he wondered if Stan knew what they were called. “I can hardly keep it anymore.”

“How long exactly?”

Richie shrugged. “Don’t know, but I know it’s long, I just came aware of it too late. I mean, I was already helpless by the time I realized it.”

“Are you planning to tell the others?”

Richie snorted. “Never”

“Thought you’d say that,” Beverley took another drag before flicking it away. Richie offered her a new cigarette but she just smiled and waved it off. “But look at me and Ben, it didn’t really got worse.”

“You’re different, he likes you, you like him,” Richie threw the cigarette and took another one. “It’s an obvious secret; we were all just waiting for the two of you to speak up already.”

“So you want to keep it a secret?”

“Fuck yeah I do.”

“You know, Stan can change his views on you ones he knows about it.”

“Beverly, I’ve spent my whole life making up lies in front of you guys, I know a lie when I hear one. I don’t think that’s ever going to happen,” Richie said. “The guy would rather eat nails than kiss me.”

Beverly laughed. “Whatever you say,” She pushed herself off the wall and smiled at Richie. “But you know, keeping all of this to yourself isn’t going to help. I’m here if you need anything.”

“Since when where you this cheesy?” Richie joked. “If I hadn’t known better, I might’ve assumed our Bev is hitting on me.”

Beverley flipped him off as Richie just laughed at her. Of course he knew she’ll always be there for them, she was the one to never give up when all of them already did.

“Just don’t go complaining when I barge in your house at two a.m. in the morning for having a Stan Attack.” The minute the last words were out of his mouth, Richie debated whether to commit suicide with the piece of paper left of what seems to be a poster taped on the wall. Well imagination is limitless and humans can be gruesome, why not.

Beverley’s face contorted into a weird expression that read more like ‘what the fuck?’ rather than ‘what?’ “What the hell is a Stan Attack?”

Richie rubbed the back of his neck, not meeting Beverley’s eyes. Of all the times he has to make a fool of him, now’s not the best time. Even he has to admit what he said was more lame than Stan’s worst retorts. “Jesus, liking someone can really screw you up.”

* * *

“Now I know what a Stan Attack is,” Beverley deadpan as she flipped the magazine she’s been trying to read for the last ten minutes.

“He’s so stupid it’s adorable,” Richie continued, obviously unaware of Beverley’s comment, “The thing he always does when he’s doing homework is literally the death of me. And his eyes, holy fuck his eyes, is there a way I can look at them all day without getting caught? Do I look good today, I’m wearing one of my good shirts, I think Stan was looking at me at lunch period, right?”

Beverly smiled at her friend, if a year from now someone would have told her that she’ll be witnessing Richie act worse than a girl in her celebrity crush phase in Bill’s room at nine in the evening while the other Losers watch Jumanji, she would have laughed at that person’s face. Jumanji, sure she’ll believe that one, but not with the  
Richie part. But here it was, and quite frankly, Beverley’s happy for Richie.

Richie was never the person to open up; instead he would hide his pain with another obnoxious remark. They wouldn’t have known that Richie’s parents were going through a divorce and that he wasn’t taking it well if Stan hasn’t visited him to return a comic book. It was the first time they saw Richie, the Trashmouth of the group, cry in front of them. And seeing him being all care free all of a sudden, acting like a normal teenager in the middle of their first crush, was refreshing.

But deep down, things might not end well. It’s Stan for the love of god, even Beverley isn’t so sure if Richie’s little crush on Stan will be all sunshine and rainbows in the end. Sure, she offered Richie to confess, but hearing him straight out decline the idea was a relief. She’s not even sure why she even offered the idea in the first place. But right now she won’t do anything, won’t meddle into anything, right now she’ll just let her friend enjoy the moment.

“Right, Bev?” Richie asked.

Beverley snapped out from her trance and closed the magazine she was holding. “Huh? Oh right, yeah sure.”

“I mean it’s not fair,” Richie dropped himself on Bill’s bed beside Beverley and sighed. “Here I am going all nervous around him, and his just sitting down there like nothing is fucking going on.”

“Well technically, nothing is going on,” Beverley corrected. “Well, to them at least.”

“I hate this; everyday it gets harder and harder to act normal around him.” Richie played at the seams of his flannel, the smell of faint cigar clung to it. “It’s frustrating.”

Beverley smiled. “You and your little gay crush are so cute.” 

The door to Bill’s room suddenly opened. Richie and Beverley’s heads wiped to the intruder, but it was none other than the man itself, well technically it’s the whole gang. But Richie could already feel his palms getting all sweaty just by looking at him.

“If th-the two of yu-you were s-sm-smo-smoking here, I-I’m k-kicking the two of you out,” Bill said as he collapsed on a nearby bean bag, sniffing the air cautiously. Eddie settled on leaning on the door frame as Stan sat down across from Bill on the floor.

“Where’s Mike?” Richie asked.

“Went home,” Eddie replied. “His dad called him, something about a missing goat, he was in a hurry so he didn’t have time to climb up here and tell you guys.”

“Was the movie over already?” Beverley asked as Ben sat down on the floor and leaned against one of her legs.

“Yup,” He answered. “What were the two of you talking about anyway?”

“Sorry Ben, that’s classified information.” Richie winked at Beverley, and in return she flipped him off.

“No seriously,” Stan said “What where the two of you talking about?”

He felt his breath hitch, _he’s looking at him, he’s looking at him_ , Stan fucking Uris is looking at him in the goddamn eye! Richie bit his tongue, forcing himself to stop from overreacting so much.

“We were just talking about how big my wang is against Haystack here,” Richie gestured at Ben who rolled his eyes in return.

“For the love of god Richie, can you shut up?” Eddie complained. 

“It’s nothing serious,” Beverley spoke up “nothing to get all worked up, we just don’t like Jumanji.”

“Really? I should have borrowed a different movie then,” Ben stated. “I heard Stardust is a good film.”

And that was how Beverley Marsh changes a topic, and Richie was grateful for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment for any thoughts about the chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie realized that forgetting plans with the Losers might actually lead to something. It's not like it's a good thing, neither was it bad thing. Just, something.

#### Chapter 3 

Richie furiously pressed each button on the game consul with no strategy whatsoever, he didn’t really care if he’s currently a sixteen year old swarmed with thirteen year olds in their town’s arcade, his mind was only stuck at one thing: win the princess on the stupid game.

For years, Richie Tozier believed that he can win on any arcade game he can put his hands on, until now. The game was new, it had just arrived the same day as Halloween, heck he couldn’t even remember the name of it, all he cared is that it left him completely fucked when he first played it with the other Losers on Halloween night. The ey decided to skip trick or treating, thinking that no one want to give candies to a bunch of sixteen year olds..

The laugh Stanley gave when he was defeated was almost enough to push him crawling down a hole and hide there forever. The game stained his pride, and he will do everything to get his revenge: which includes playing it in a school night, fort three hours straight surrounded with a lot of younger teens, who are actually laughing at him for losing every time.

Richie groaned and smashed one of the buttons as the phrase ‘you lose’ was plastered on the screen again. Richie’s young audience laughed, he swore one of them paid the one standing next to him. _Nice, now they’re betting on you to lose._

“Haven’t you embarrassed yourself enough?”

Richie heart stopped, he knew that voice all too well.

He turned his head and saw Stanley Uris, his arms crossed over his chest, leaning on the pillar near the game he’s been playing. He was still the same as always, clothes pressed, his shirt tucked in, but to Richie he was breathtaking.

Richie looked around, expecting to see Bill, or at least one of the boys. Nope, Stan was alone, alone with him. Well not really, considering that there are about a hundred of other kids around them, but this could be considered as alone, right? “What are you doing here?”

“Why? It’s the arcade, am I not allowed to go here?”

“I was, well, I wasn’t expecting you to see here in a school night.”

Stan blinked; Richie noted that he looked confused. The bespectacled boy detached himself from the game as the other teens swarmed at it, considering that they were actually there to play the game in the first place, and walked to Stanley, who was still looking confused.

“What? Cat got your tongue or something?”

“Are you sure you’re Richie?”

It was Richie’s turn to blink. “What?”

Stanley looked around, as if expecting to see the real Richie walk by any minute. “It’s just that, well…” He faltered a bit, still obviously confused. “You don’t usually talk like that.”  
“Talk like wh—” Then it hit him like a ton of bricks.

He’s Trashmouth for heaven’s sake! His usual conversation starters are always something about a bed, and one of their mothers. He could have said something else, how could he waver for a minute?

“If you’re asking why I’m acting weird, it’s because I’m scared,” Richie said, saying the first thing that could work to get him off the situation, even though the situation’s fucking shallow. Stan, if possible, looked at him even more confused. “I know you like me, but you don’t have to stalk me Uris, it’s creepy. I told you, just ask me and I’ll gladly jump on the bed with you.”

Richie internally winced when he realized what he just said, people were right not to talk before thinking. Sure he’s been doing that for all his life, but not with Stan. Ever since he realized he liked him, he always watched his words around Stan. And now, well until now.

“And he’s back,” Stan muttered, leaving Riche relieved.

“But seriously what are you doing here, other than stalking me,” Richie joked, “Or are you really here just to stalk me?” He added feigning fright.

Stan gave him a poker face. “Bill’s searching for you. How many times do I have to tell you to bring your phone around?”

“I’m sorry Stan, but I’m not in the mood to have a threesome, I’m still exhausted from—”

“It’s about the movie you ass!” Stan cut in, embarrassed by his friend. A few people actually turned to look at them.

Richie scrunched his face, “Huh?”

Stan just stared at him, the look of pure exhaustion on his face. Richie just stared back, obviously not knowing what the hell Stan was talking about. But when Stan realized Richie really was clueless, he groaned and rubbed the back of his neck.

“You never listen, no seriously; you never listen to anything unless it’s about your dick,” Stan groaned out, “We were supposed to watch this new movie Ben’s been yapping about for days. We’ve been waiting for you to arrive for an hour,” his eyes travelled to the game Richie was playing, “apparently you’re too busy.”

_Oh… right, the movie._

It was Richie’s turn to rub the back of his neck, “I kind of forgot,” he stared at his worn out sneakers as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world, “Sorry.”  
Stan did a double take, “What?”

He reached out and pinched Richie’s cheek, sending waves of electricity around the bespectacled boy’s body. Richie’s eye’s doubled—which looked ridiculously weird with his glasses on, as he started to feel his face going hot. Stan, for the love of god, did not notice the sudden redness of Richie’s ears.

Richie awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck again as Stan let go of his cheek. “What the hell was that for?”

“Are you sure you’re really Richie?”

“You know what, this is just frustrating,” Richie said. “If this is a new way of flirting, I think it’s working,” he sent a wink at Stan.  
Stan, as if realizing that there’s no way he could ever have a normal conversation with Richie, rolled his eyes and started walking, “C’mon, the others are waiting. Even though we missed the film, Ben still wants to hangout.”

Richie’s heart hammered inside his chest, he didn’t really know whether the universe’s playing with him or helping him. The thought of being alone with Stan delights him, and at the same time, scares him. And if he’s being honest, he’s leaning in more on to the latter.

Richie was known for being rash, and possibly not using his head when he’s pretty smart. He could write a novel about all the stupid things he could do that might jeopardize his friendship with Stan, one of which is to confess to early just because he’s into the moment. It’s just that, being alone with the guy you like in the middle of the night is usually a confession worthy situation. Those were the thoughts that ran through Richie’s mind as him and Stan walked towards Ben’s house.

“This is the first time we’re alone together since Eddie’s birthday, didn’t you noticed?” Richie joked.

“No,” _way to kill a conversation, Stanley._

Richie clicked his tongue, “If playing hard to get is another way of yours to get a kiss from me, I told you: you just have to—” 

Suddenly Stan was too close in front of his face, too close that Richie’s breath hitched. Stanley’s brown eyes were so close to his own he’s sure he could probably see his own reflection. And they were just staring, not really doing anything, but Richie knew his ears were glowing red by now. 

Stan smirked, “I knew it,” and then he was suddenly far away from Richie as he started to walk again.

Richie, still a little dazed, took exactly three seconds before he realized that Stan was already ahead of him. “Knew what?” He asked as he jogged next to Stan, his face probably red as a tomato. He’s just thankful it was dark.

“You’re not really as experienced as you claimed to be,” Stan stated nonchalantly.

“What are you talking about, Stan the Man?” Richie could still hear his hear beat ringing in his ears as he joked. “From what you did a moment ago, it seems as if you were so desperate to get a kiss from me.”

“From what I see, you were too shocked at the situation you can’t even think,” Stan replied. “It just means you’re liar.”

Richie feigned anger, “How dare you insult my expertise, have you no shame?” he said, trying his best whatever accent that works with the sentence.

“You can’t even prove—” It was Stan’s turn to be cut off.

Richie grabbed Stan on both shoulders and slammed him on the tree next to them; he can’t help but praise himself for the perfect timing. He smirked as he saw the bewildered expression Stan showed as Richie leaned in, enough that their mouth’s almost touched.

“So do you want me to prove it to you?”

Richie was expecting Stan to push him away and tell him to fuck off, but Stan didn’t do anything, nor said anything. Instead, he just continued to stare at Richie with wide eyes. And as if a switch turned on in Richie’s head, his heart was suddenly trashing inside his ribcage. But Richie didn’t falter, or show any signs that he was squirming inside, instead he just continued to smirk at Stan, waiting for his answer.

But even his smirk faltered.

Richie felt it, the sudden tension between them. For the first time, he felt tension between him and Stan as Stan zeroed in on Richie’s lips. Could Stan be feeling the same way as him? Is his unrequited love not unrequited after all?

“Should I,” Richie’s voice came out hoarse, “prove it?”

He was also staring at Stan’s lips, which looked so soft and inviting. He could just do it you know, lean in and kiss him. But that small part of the back of his head was telling him that this was exactly the thing he shouldn’t be doing: get too much into the moment.

_Don’t get way over your head, Richard._

He couldn’t take it, anymore and he won’t be able to control himself, and besides, Stan wasn’t really giving him an answer. Kissing him might ruin his friendship with him, and Richie doesn’t want that.

He immediately let go of Stan as he forced a snort out of his nose, “But you know, I did said you just need to ask me,” He joked. But his breathing was still uneven.

Stan was too focused at his own breathing to notice Richie’s. _What the hell was that?_ That was his first thoughts to himself. He couldn’t look at Richie; he just couldn’t, not yet. He couldn’t understand what just happened, nor could he understand why he can’t stop Richie when he obviously can.

Stan risked a glance at Richie; he was already walking away, most probably continuing his way towards Ben’s house. Stan took a deep breath. 

_This is Richie, Stan, he’s just joking around. There’s no way…_

He continued to stare at Richie as he decided to jog up to him, probably hit him upside the head or call him an asshole. But nonetheless, he would still be Richie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and give me your thoughts about the story.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Early update! *throws hams in the air*  
> But only because moving sucks and I'll be facing the torture of packing and unpacking for the next following weeks with no internet.
> 
>  
> 
> How the hell am I going to survive?

#### Chapter 4

“Things with Stan didn’t really change.”

Or that’s what Richie wanted to believe in.

It’s only been a few days since the ‘should-I prove-it’ accident, and Richie knew things will never be the same with Stan. If previously he was the only one getting all squirmy inside, now he knows Stan could feel the tension between them. Whenever they accidentally lock eyes, or brush legs, and even when the reach for something at the same time, Richie knew Stan could feel it.

But like any other human beings, they ignore it and try to act like nothing is bothering them.

He didn’t even know why started in the first place, so what if he advanced at Stan the other night, he usually does that all the time with the other Losers. Why is it any different? The worst part was, knowing that Stan’s really uncomfortable with it, he doesn’t like Richie to begin with, and now he can’t look him in the eye when the pass by a fucking tree, _a tree!_

Only, the tension didn’t stop Richie from looking at Stan every time, he was still pretty in love even though it’s been established that the two of them are currently in an awkward position. In the end, he could only just look.

Bev doesn’t know about the ‘should-I-prove-it’ incident, but she knew something was up. That’s how she ended up talking to Richie on the phone on a Friday night.

“Bullshit,” said Beverley, “and I’m the first lady. You’re not fooling me, Trashmouth.”

“Nothing happened alright,” which was in fact true, nothing really happened. Engaging inappropriate advances has always been Richie’s thing, and the Losers aren’t really new to it.

Richie could practically feel Beverley rolling her eyes on the other end of the line, “Rich I’m serious, there’s something really weird going on between you two.”

Richie looked at the window next to him, the night sky looking so empty with thick cloud hiding the stars. _I hope there was something going on between us._

When Richie entered the library that Saturday morning, to return the borrowed book he was forced to borrow for his book report (except in the end he just watched the movie adaptation), he wasn’t expecting to see Stan hanging out by the ‘birds’ section.

It wasn’t a surprise if it was Ben, considering that he practically lives there, nor even if it was Stan. But with the weird thing going on with them for the past few days, Richie can’t help but think if the universe is playing with him, or helping him. Stan just _had_ to be alone in the library when he’s about to return the book he borrowed. He doesn’t even like books to begin with.

But enough was enough, Richie couldn’t handle the thought that he and Stan would stay awkward just because of a little tease he, to begin with, always do. It’s just too ridiculous.  
Taking a deep breath, Richie marched his way to Stan.

“Top of the morning chap,” Richie greeted in his worst English accent.

Stan jumped and almost dropped the book he was reading, something about humming birds, and let out an annoyed sigh as he realized it was just Richie.

“What?” Stan asked annoyed.

“I was just wondering if you know where the sex books are,” Richie said, “I heard that you can find—” He was cut off by Stan hitting him on the head with the book he was holding. Thank the heavens it was thin.

“Beep beep Richie!” Stan hissed as he risked a nervous glance at the librarian, she appeared to be more interested in cleaning her glasses than keeping an eye on the two teenagers.

Richie rubbed the part where he was hit and grinned at Stan.

“What the hell are you doing here anyway?” Stan asked as he placed the book back on the shelf he was leaning on.

“First the arcade, and now here,” Richie clicked his tongue, “am I not allowed to go anywhere?”

Stan just gave him a blank look, “This is the library, Richies don’t go here,” he said as if it already explained enough.

“I was just returning a book, relax.”

Stan stared at him, doubting the words that came out from Richie’s mouth, “You? Borrowed a book?” Richie nodded. “It’s the end of the world isn’t it?”

“Hey, it’s not my fault your mom finds it sexy when I read books when we finished—”

“Jesus,” Stan groaned

“That’s what your mom said last night,” Stan glared at him which Richie returned with a grin.

The curly haired boy rolled his eyes as he took a few books and made his way towards an empty table, Richie following him from behind. Richie sat down across from Stan and proceeded to tap a horrible rhythm on the table.

“You’re not going anywhere aren’t you?” Stan asked his eyes glued at the book he just opened.

“Why should I, when I know that my very presence can help you focus—” He studied the books Stan was reading, which appears to be non-school related, “on whatever it is you’re studying.”

“I think you should waste your heavenly presence on someone else, Mike perhaps?” Stan said, still not looking at Richie.

Richie smiled at himself, which seems crazy. _No, it_ is _crazy._ But he knew that even though Stan liked him the least, he wouldn’t dare hate him, considering that they were both each other’s first friend, “busy at the farm,” Richie instantly replied.

“Bill?”

Richie shrugged. “Big Bill must be hooking up with Eddie,” Stan gave him a bewildered look, finally looking away from the book he was reading, “Don’t act surprised, those two radiates the same vibes when Haystack and Bev where lusting over each other.”

“Don’t you ever say anything normal? You just have to make every conversation your way.”

“Sorry about that, it’s just that I’m used with having my way in everything with your mom,” he smiled a toothy grin.

“You know what; I’m just going to ignore you.”

And just like that, there was silence between the two boys. But when there’s silence, there’s also tension. 

No obnoxious conversations to put their minds off, instead all they (or maybe just Richie) can think were the fact that they’re alone together. And the last time they were alone, things went a little awry.

_“Should I prove it?”_

Richie shook his head and peeked at Stan, his eyes were still glued at whatever bird book he was reading. Richie could suddenly hear his heart pounding in his ear. Suddenly the room was feeling kind of hot, or maybe it’s just him, which seems more believable.

_“Should I prove it?”_

Richie closed his eyes and started to drum his fingers on the table. But he soon realized that it was a bad idea, because as soon as he closed his eyes, he saw the event’s of the other night.

_I should have kissed him._

_No you can’t!_

_I could have kissed him._

_But you would have ruined our friendship._

Richie opened his eyes and sighed, only to see Stan looking at him. His breath hitched. _Yeah, Stan has that kind of effect on him._ But instead of looking away, to act like he wasn’t looking at all, Stan held his gaze, an unreadable expression on his face.

“What?” Richie asked as soon as he got a hold of his composure, “Why are you looking at me as if you want to fuck me?”

“Want to hang out at my place?” Stan closed the book he was previously reading, ignoring Richie’s comment. “I just bought this new game.”

* * *

“You fucking suck at this!” Richie laughed sitting on the floor as his character tackled Stan’s avatar.

“You’re just cheating!” The curly haired boy retorted next to Richie.

The two were currently in Stan’s room; playing a game they can’t even remember the name—which was sad in Stan’s part because it was his game after all. Richie realized that he missed this. Maybe it was alright that he could be the only one looking, but he shouldn’t have let his relationship with Stan deteriorate.

The words ‘Victory’ sprawled on the screen as Stan’s avatar finally lost its remaining life. Stan let out a defeated groan as Richie stood up, his arms raised, as if acknowledging a huge crowd. The Jewish boy snorted as Richie did a few bows and gun fingers at the imaginary crowd.

“So,” Stan grabbed his controller (which he had dropped in defeat), “you up for another round?”

“Were you watching me and your mom last night? That’s the same question she asked me,” A pillow hit him on the face.

“Well that definitely ruined my last sliver of good mood,” Stan said and flopped himself on his bed, his eyes glued at the ceiling.

Richie followed suit and flopped himself next to Stan. The two just lay there, and after such a long time, Richie couldn’t feel the awkward tension between them. Right at that moment, they were just to boys, they were just two friends.

“Richie, I was just thinking—”

“Sorry, I’m not a virgin anymore.” Richie received a hit on the forearm.

“Asshole,” Stan muttered, “I’m trying to have a normal conversation here.”

“Okay fine, give it a go.”

Stan didn’t say anything at ones, “I was just thinking,” He played the rim of his shirt, “And I’m only asking this because you’re my best friend, but how do you know when you like someone?”

Richie wasn’t expecting the question, or to hear it coming from Stan. He turned his head to look at Stan, only to find him looking at the plain ceiling. _Does he like someone?_

Richie opened his mouth but Stan cut him off, “Before you say anything, need I remind you that I’m trying to have a _normal_ conversation.” He still wasn’t looking at Richie. “I don’t want any sexual comments from you. I already heard enough to last a lifetime.”

Richie bit the inside of his cheek, an uncomfortable feeling settling on the pit of his stomach. He doesn’t like this conversation. “How should I know? I’ve never liked someone.” _Liar_

Stan didn’t reply instantly again, “I’m just asking how you think it might feel, not your experience, dumbass.”

Richie continued to look at Stan, his mood souring by the minute.

“This is just a guess,” he finally answered, “but I think you’ll feel like being with that person is all you need,” he said describing the same feelings he would experience around Stan. “And maybe, you’ll find yourself looking at that person every time you’re together,” he gazed at the curve of Stan’s lips and imagined kissing them. Richie’s eyes travelled to Stan’s eyes and noted that for a boy, Stan’s lashes were really long, “You think that that person is the most beautiful thing in the world.”

“Those are the common explanations Rich,” Stan said, still not looking at Richie. “That didn’t really help.”

“Why are you asking anyway? Does Stan the Man like someone?” But Richie didn’t want him to reply, he knows the answer and it’s not him.

“Maybe,” Stan made it sound like a joke, made it sound like he doesn’t really like anyone. But it was still enough to clench Richie’s heart.

He was right; he would always end up looking at Stan, and Stan would never even glance his way, maybe even look at someone else. Like right now, Richie looking at Stan, and Stan looking at the ceiling.

_Unrequited love sucks._


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

“So you’re just going to give up?” Beverley asked as she blew the smoke out of her mouth.

“To begin with, I never started anything,” Richie replied and took another puff of smoke, he was currently seating on his ankles, the tips of his toes numbing.

He watched Stan roll his eyes at whatever germ-related topic Eddie was ranting on about from afar. They were back to where they always hang out, the quarry, with Richie and Beverley a few feet away from them due to their smoking. It’s not like the Losers mind it, it’s just that they knew that Eddie’s really uncomfortable with it, even though he would never say a thing. Which was actually the problem, he wouldn’t say anything.

Knowing that Stan likes someone, probably some girl _(that’s right Richie, a girl, not a boy like you)_ , took most of his good mood away. The others haven’t noticed it yet, considering that’s it’s only been last night. But it wasn’t a surprise that Beverley, the mother of the group and the only one who knows Richie’s little crush, noticed it immediately.

“Haven’t you ever thought that it might be you?” Beverley asked, looking down on Richie.

Richie snorted, “Trust me when I say it’s not me.”

“You’re Trashmouth, technically we can’t trust anything that comes out from you,” Bev ran a hand through her short red hair; Richie noted that she trimmed it again.

“Oh Bev, what comes out of me can be described as heavenly,”

In reply, Bev threw the first thing she got her hands on at Richie—the pack of cigarettes they were sharing, “Richie you’re disgusting, I’m not even kidding.”

“Nor am I,” Richie replied, “What really comes out from Richie junior is heavenly.”

“Even piss?” Bev raised a brow.

Richie thought for a few seconds, “When I take a piss it feels heavenly,” He shrugged.

When Beverley opened her mouth to say another retort, Richie threw the cigarette he was holding and stood up, “C’mon, the others might be talking about me behind my back already.” 

“The two of you have been getting pretty chummy recently,” Mike noted as soon as Richie and Beverley reached their small circle, with Richie seating next to Mike and Beverley next to Ben.

“That’s because I’m stealing her away from Haystack here,” Richie reached over Mike and playfully slapped Ben’s back.

Ben snorted and rolled his eyes in return, but draped his arm across Beverley’s shoulder protectively. The Losers didn’t miss the gesture and laughed.

“Sorry Richie, but I don’t date Trashmouths,” Beverley laughed, she reached for a chip at one of the containers Eddie brought.

“Speaking of dating,” Richie wiggled his eyes at Bill, who was sitting way to close to Eddie to be considered normal, “I think there’s a new blossoming couple in our group.”

Bill and Eddie caught Richie’s eye and awkwardly moved away from each other. Richie didn’t notice the warning look Stan was giving him, which is a miracle because Richie always notices Stan.

Beverley, who again, knows everything, opened her mouth, “Really?” She said feigning ignorance, but Richie could sense the warning tone behind her voice—which was probably directed to him. “Then they would have told us when they’re ready.”

Though they were all aware with what’s going on between Eddie and Bill, they knew when to invade each other’s personal space. Richie was the only ignorant one.

Richie pouted, “Party pooper,” he muttered that wasn’t left unheard.

“Easy for you to say,” Eddie said, “You’ve never been in a relationship.”

“Much less like someone,” Mike added. Not true.

Richie let out an amused snort, “Oh Eds, you should never talk to your future stepfather like that.”

Eddie grabbed a handful of grass and threw it at Richie, “Stepfather my ass!”

Richie grinned, “I’d like to see that.”

“Beep b-beep R-Richie!” Bill exclaimed.

“Alright, but if you were to ask me, I’d rather see Bev’s,” Richie winked at her way. “I’ll show mine if you show yours.”

Beverley rolled her eyes, “Sure,” she shrugged, much to the Losers’ surprise, “There’s nothing for you to show anyway.”

A chorus of ‘ohs’ were produced from the other Losers, except Stanley, who appeared to be disinterested with the topic, or majority with any of their topics for the matter.

Richie laughed, this was what he likes, he likes it when they took the bait and snap a comment. He likes it even more when it’s Stanley, no matter how lame his comeback was.  
Suddenly Richie’s heart clenched.

Here he was again, thinking about Stan. And it’s not even helping that whenever he thinks about the other, he would always think back to yesterday’s conversation. It hurts even more that somewhere, out there, a person minding their own business was slowly killing Richie just Because Stan likes them.

Richie found himself looking at Stan, and again, Stan was looking at something else. And that something else was a bird book. _Great Richie, now you’re getting jealous over a bird book_.

He broke his gaze at Stan and put on another grin in front of everyone, “Ben’s mom seems to differ.”

“How come my mom’s suddenly dragged into this?” Ben questioned as Eddie reached out and patted him on the back, a sympathetic look plastered on the small boy’s face.

“Well I’m flirting with your girlfriend,” Richie said matter-a-fact “So automatically, the boyfriend’s mom get’s the end of the stick.”

Mike scrunched his face, “I can’t really see the connection.”

“Of course you don’t,” Cause honestly neither can Richie, but when did he care anyway? 

He turned to look at Bill and grinned, “Billy boy, Big Bill, Billy William, you won’t be like them won’t you? You’ll show yours right?” He batted his eyelashes too fast and too obvious, Eddie cringed as Mike snorted.

Bill gave a soft laugh, “Why do-don’t yuh-you date s-s-someone you like a-and ask th-theh-them instead.”

“That’s the problem Big Bill, the person I like doesn’t like me back,” and the moment the last words left his mouth, Richie regretted opening it in the first place. The grin on his face was disappearing quickly.

Suddenly, Beverley’s eyes looked way too big to be considered as normal.

There was silence; Richie swore he could hear a cricket mocking him. Each of the Losers’ different expression was melting of into what Richie could call as realization. He could just hear the words ringing inside their heads: Richie actually likes someone? And being an idiot, he couldn’t say anything.

_Idiot! Take it back now! But what kind of remark should I say? Should I deny it? Fuck, I’ve been quite for way too long to cover it up. But I should still cover it up right? Should I? Shit!_

Richie blinked and looked away from the Losers’; he ended up looking at the vast water where he and the gang usually swim in the summer back when they were kids. They haven’t done it in a few years.

“Richie wh—” It was Stan, of course it has to be Stan.

“Race you to the water losers!” And Richie took off running at the body of water, whilst taking off his hideous Hawaiian shirt.

“Richie, what the hell,” It was Eddie who shrieked.

“I’m in!” Beverley declared and took off towards Richie.

To Richie it wasn’t much of a shocker that Beverley agreed to join his sudden idea, he’s just thankful she’s not making things a whole lot harder.

“Hey! Wait up,” This time it was Ben who Richie last heard before he dove into cold water.

* * *

“Achoo!” Richie sneezed and readjusted the blanket he was using to cover him up, “god I feel like a fucking Popsicle.”

“Well who was the idiot who decided to swim in the middle of November?” Mike shivered under the thick blanket.

“Well who were the idiots who followed me?”

“You said to race you,” Bev mumbled before sneezing like a man next to Ben, who was sharing the same blanket with her.

“And you guys actually went after me, I’m so flattered,” cue another sneeze.

Before anyone can say anything, Stan entered the room, carrying a tray of hot coffees, “Didn’t I tell you guys swimming was a bad idea,” He addressed the whole Losers residing in his room, “now look at all of you, you all look like you just got unfrozen.”

It was true, even Bill was looking sheepish for his actions.

“Yuh-yuh-you di-didn’t rea-lly m-meh-made any di-differ-rence Stan, we were a-a-al-already drenched wh-wh-when you warned us,” Bill stuttered, which obviously didn’t came from his typical stutter.

Stan was the only one out of the seven of them not to swim. Eddie was reluctant but Bill was smart, stupid maybe, enough to carry him whilst the other boy was shrieking. And it wasn’t that hard, because of age sixteen, Eddie was still small.

They had only stayed in the water for an hour, each enjoying something they haven’t done in a while. But the cold weather put an end to it— making them all shiver in their wet clothes. And for ones, Stan took the mother label and carried them all to his house, which was the only available house with no parents at the moment.

After drying off, and taking most of Stan’s clothes—except for Ben and Mike who had to borrow from Mr. Uris, and Beverley who was currently wearing one of Mrs. Uris’s nightgowns, they all decided to hang a bit more in Stan’s room. Considering that they were still chilled to the bone, in which Stan defended that it wasn’t his fault they ran out of hot water.

“That was because I missed the old days, Stan the Man,” Richie grinned and reached for a mug of coffee.

Their fingers brushed and Richie could feel electricity travel up his arm. He didn’t know whether Stan felt the same, but according to his expression he was either hiding it, or there was nothing. Richie knew it was the latter.

“Or you were just avoiding something,” Stan shrugged and gave a mug to Ben.

Richie let out the most fake snort, “I would never avoid anything, especially you babe,” he winked at Stan who rolled his eyes in return.

“Forget I even said anything.”

Richie noticed that Bill and Mike shared a look and he already knew why. It was already obvious Richie was avoiding the topic about the person he likes, and it seems like the Losers had a silent agreement never to bring it up again. But that was what Richie hated the most, now they’ll be walking on ice because of him.

If only he could’ve opened his mouth sooner and cover up the freaking slip up.

The one thing his only good failed him.

Then again, even though he doesn’t want them to act like that, he can’t really bring himself up and just tell them he likes Stan. He’s a coward, and he knows it.

Richie sipped at the coffee and almost burned his tongue, he winced.

“Careful,” Stan said, and Richie noticed that the others were blowing their own mugs, “it’s hot.”

“No shit Sherlock,” Richie mumbled, but it was left unheard, instead he grinned at Stan and said, “As hot as me?”

Everyone rolled their eyes.

Richie laughed but deep down, he was angry at himself, for liking Stan. He was angry at Stan, for liking someone else. And he was angry at whoever Stan likes, for making Stan fall to whoever that person is. And now, he was angry at his friends for acting like he’s a freaking glass ready to break any moment with one wrong move. The worse part: he can’t really blame anyone, majority were all consequences from his doings.

“Do you know what goes great with coffee?” Richie started again; he doesn’t really like silence, “Especially when you’re feeling cold.”

No one bothered to ask him what it was.

“Porn,” Richie simply said.

Beverley laughed, Ben choked a bit, Eddie spat coffee from his mouth, and Stan looked annoyed at the mess Eddie made. Expect Eddie to overreact in everything.

“There’s a girl you know,” Mike said, chuckling by the edge of Stan’s bed.

“Oh c’mon, even Bev watches it,” Beverley gave Richie the finger, “And Eddie spaghetti, don’t act as if you haven’t even seen one.”

“It’s disgusting,” Eddie replied, “Can you imagine how many germs are being transmitted while having sex? My uncle in New York died because he caught STD just by touching a vagina. He only touched a vagina Richie, a vagina! How can you find it entertaining when you could die from it?”

Richie snorted, “And who exactly told you that Eds?”

There was an awkward pause from Eddie, “…mom.”

Richie laughed, and so did Beverley, who immediately hid it behind a cough, “Dude, you’re sixteen! How can you still believe in that? And besides, your mother tells otherwise from what happened last night.”

“Shut it Richie!” Eddie shrieked.

“And also, how are you going to have sex with Big Bill?” Richie mentally slapped himself as the last words tumbled out of his mouth.  
 _Well, there’s no turning back now._

It was Bill’s turn to spit coffee as he was already in the middle of drinking it. Eddie was a stuttering mess as Mike really did face palm himself. Stan appeared to be beside himself as another mess was about to be cleaned.

No one knew how to continue the conversation, because just like Beverley and Ben, Bill and Eddie’s relationship was an obvious secret. And everyone was keeping quiet, until Richie destroyed it again. Then again, there was a reason he was nicknamed as Trashmouth.

That weird uncomfortable silence fell on them as Eddie decided to just shut up and move away from Bill as far as possible. And again, Richie hated silence.  
“So are we still going to watch porn?”

Apparently, it was the last straw for Eddie. He lunged at Richie and made an even bigger mess as broken mugs and spilled coffee littered in Stan’s room.

“YOU STUPID FUCK!” Eddie shrieked.

“Guys, seriously!” Stan screamed from the background, “in my room?” Obviously pointing at the mess they’ve made.

Bill sighed and left the room—probably about to get a rug or call the police, Stan too left the room, probably to bring his cleaning supplies.

And just like a few months back, the day when school started again, Richie could hear Beverly say “So we’re dealing with this now?”

* * *

In the end they didn’t watched porn, much to Richie chagrin. They were able to fix the awkward mess, including Stan’s room, and Eddie was back to normal, other than the fact that he was already planning Richie’s funeral. 

Eddie and Bill’s relationship wasn’t a secret anymore, though it was never actually a secret in the first place. Richie was told to apologize, which he didn’t, but things were okay. No one was really angry, and everyone agreed that it was probably time to admit it anyway.

And also, it’s not like it was a surprise Richie ruined everything again.

“You know that was stupid right?” Stan said, he was seated on his study table, the chair forgotten.

Richie and Stan were alone in Stan’s room, after the Jewish boy declared that Richie stay for another clean up—just to make sure nothing was left dirty. For a person who would rather sleep in the sewers than sleep in the same bed as Richie, Stan seems to spend a lot of time with him. But then again, he was the cause of the mess.

But hey, it’s not like Richie’s complaining.

“What’s wrong with being honest?” Richie replied, he was laying spread eagled on Stan’s bed. His fingers were covered with bandages, not because he cut himself while wrestling with Eddie with the broken pieces of the mug, but it was because he refused to wear gloves while cleaning the mess.

“We kept quiet with yours, you should have kept quiet with theirs,” Stan said, his hands unconsciously tapping a slow rhythm on the table. Richie found it comforting.

“It was an honest mistake,” Richie shrugged.

“For heaven’s sake, don’t use that excuse.”

Richie sat up and leaned on his elbows, his glasses askew as he looked at Stan, “You of all people should know that I think with my mouth rather than with my head.”

“You just admitted that you’re irrational,” Stan pointed.

Richie raised a brow, “You’re my best friend, shouldn’t you now that already?”

Stan dropped his gaze and stared at his bedroom floor, “yeah,” he said, “best friend,”

Richie wanted to know if Stan was smiling or frowning at the sudden proclamation that he’s best friends with him, like how it always happens when they were still young. (But as they grow older, Stan just learned to ignore it). But considering that he was looking down, all he could see was a mess of blonde curls. 

“Then can I ask you something,” Stan looked up and met Richie’s gaze. 

Suddenly Richie’s heart was beating way too fast for his own good.

“Shoot,” Richie answered, his hands going sweaty from Stan’s gaze.

“Why can’t you tell us about the person you like?”

Yeah, he does use his mouth rather than his brain. He should have expected this, considering that the fiasco moments ago all happened because he was avoiding that very question. But he wasn’t expect it; in fact it never crossed his mind that Stan would end up asking him in the end. 

And it’s not like he’s proud of himself for avoiding it, he hated that his friends would have to watch their words starting from now on around him. He hated that even though he hates his friends for being cautious around him, he still couldn’t bring himself to tell them. 

And most of all, he hated that he still couldn’t tell it, even with all the things that had happened just to avoid answering it. Even with how hard Stan was looking at him, he still couldn’t bring himself.

“It’s because I’m scared that Mrs. Kaspbrak might get jealous and starts avoiding me, I need sex in life Stan the Man.”

Yeah, Richie’s a big coward with his feelings.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's Chapter six, I'm on fire people.

#### Chapter 6

Richie searched the pantry and fridge for any food, but he was only able to find spoiled left over Chinese food from last night in the pantry. He groaned and glanced at the wall clock, he’s already late. Maybe another morning without eating is alright, there’s still Ben who would gladly share his lunch with him.

Richie hitched his backpack over his shoulder and went out to face the day with an empty stomach.

It’s not like Richie’s life is like this in a daily basis. In some days, Maggie would actually prepare him breakfast and give him his allowance. But those were the days where she wasn’t dead drunk, or nursing a hangover, which are rare. 

Especially now,

His dad, Went, filed for divorce a few months back, before summer even ended. Though it wasn’t a surprise, before his mother even received the divorce papers, Went hasn’t bothered to come home. It was safe to say that Richie was waiting for the papers to be delivered at any moment. Though, it was still enough for him to breakdown in front of Stan.

But even though Maggie was already alcoholic, it seemed to have worsened after the divorce was finally established.

_You can’t have life without drama,_ Richie thought glumly as he mounted his rusty bike and paddled to school.

It was cold, and the fact that he was forced not to wear socks, due to forgetting to do laundry, didn’t help the situation. He was hungry and cold, but at least the orange leaves of the trees made up for it. Something about autumn just warms Richie up—it doesn’t have any particular meaning behind it, he just thinks that out of the four seasons, autumn is the most beautiful. 

But summer’s still more enjoyable, nothing can beat summer. Especially when Stan was _forced_ to wear a loose tank top because of the extreme heat. Richie was sure he already molested Stan through his eyes, considering that he was fighting off a bad case of erection every minute.

He frowned.

He really needs to stop this, the fact that he can casually think of Stan is something he really needs to discontinue. Considering that knowing he likes someone else kept him awake at nights, or makes him want to stare into nothingness, or drown himself in a tub of ice cream is already crossing the boundaries of crush. Sure he can still hide it in front of everyone, but every time he’s alone, he swore he can hear his heart breaking

Richie rode past by the woods, where, hidden underneath somewhere was their old underground clubhouse. It’s been a few months since he last went there, and the last time they were all there, Richie finally found out how sardines felt like when inside a pack.

They never got the chance to visit it again, but it was usually a topic that would normally spring up every now and then. Last time they talked about it, Ben and Beverley were the last ones to visit so far, it was where they spent one of their dates.

Turns out, Richie _does_ miss the old times.

First period had just ended when Richie finally reached school. Missing first period wasn’t the problem; the problem was being late on the second period, History. The new teacher seem to hate his very existence, if one could still consider her as new—being older than Jesus and all.

“You’re late,” Mike muttered at Richie as soon as he took the sit next to him.

“Sorry, I got too caught up with Mrs. K,” Richie replied, ignoring the nagging pain inside his stomach.

Mike chuckled and shook his head as their teacher entered the class—which name Richie never bothered to learn, even though they’re already two months in the school year.

Richie opened his notebook, not to take down notes, but to doodle his way out of the boring subject. Grades comes in easily for him, it’s not something he has to work hard for. Unlike Stan though, if he could study all day without eating, he’ll do it.

Richie doodled mindlessly on his notebook, with Mike saving him from their teacher’s wrath by hitting him on the shoulder whenever the new teacher would go near them. By the time the bell has rung, it was the only moment Richie realized what he actually just drew. It wasn’t as impressive as Bill’s drawings—who seem to have taken a liking in art as soon as they reached high school, but the drawing was still obvious.

There were a few guns, explosives, and some skulls on the border, but one fourth of the page was taken up by a cartoon drawing of a lanky curly haired boy with a pair of binoculars strung around his neck, a bird book in hand. And for some sick reasons, Richie actually found a few hearts drawn surrounding the boy.

He’s crazy, the only explanation he drew a cartoon version of Stan—complete with a pressed tucked in shirt and khakis, was because he’s crazy.

Richie stared at it a full minute before ripping it out of his notebook.

“Hey, that was good, why throw it?”

Richie whipped his head at Mike who was currently standing next to him. He had his backpack slung over his shoulders, ready to leave a now very empty classroom.

Richie glanced around the room; apparently he was looking at his drawing way too long to be considered a minute. Without hesitation, Richie called his fist holding the paper, crumpling it.

“It was hideous,” was the only thing he could say.

Mike just gave him a weird look as Richie crammed all his stuff back inside his bag, with the paper still crumpled inside his fist. Richie thought that he should probably burn the paper, it seem more reasonable than throwing it away.

“C’mon,” Richie said as he slung his bag on one of his shoulders and gestured to leave the room.

As soon as they left, Mike opened his mouth and said “You’re hiding something aren’t you?”

Richie did his best to cover up the almost trip he did and turned to look at Mike. He glanced around and leaned towards him, as if to whisper something. “Don’t tell the others, but I’m two timing Mrs. K with Mrs. Uris.”

Mike playfully pushed Richie. “Yeah, keep doing that, you know it’s getting way too old.”

Richie laughed as the bell rung, signaling for third period, which he also shared with Mike along with Stan. Richie tightened his fist around his drawing and tried to shove it inside his pockets, planning to never pull it out until he gets home. Only Mike has other plans.

Before Richie could even put the paper in his pockets, Mike grabbed his hand and (considering that the guy was stronger than him with working in the farm and all) easily stole the drawing.

“Mike, what the fuck!” Richie exclaimed and immediately lunged at him.

But there were a lot of flaws in this plan: a) Mike is way stronger than Richie, b) Richie is obviously panicking over a piece of paper, which is enough for anyone to want to know why, which may also push Mike not to give up, and c) Mike is way stronger than Richie.

_Okay, maybe there were only two flaws._

And truth to be told, he was, as Mike was able to push Richie out of reach with only one hand on the bespectacled boy’s chest.

Richie was sure the color on his face disappeared already.

“Mike, give it back, I swear it’s ugly, you’ll die if you see it!” It was lame, but in his defense, Richie was panicking.

Mike stared him, this was the first he saw Richie like this, other than the time Bill and he had a feud. No voices, not even jokes, just a normal teenager panicking over a piece of paper.

“You can do better than that Richie,” Mike said, thinking that the other boy was just pretending.

“Mike, just give it back!” Richie exclaimed, gaining a lot of stares from the other students.

Mike was never to push people; he was always the listener of the group, he’s the man with advices. It was never his job to piss, or to rile anyone up. But looking at Richie now, he was doing exactly that. And he doesn’t have a fucking clue why.

Of course it wouldn’t take a no-brainer to realize it’s the doodle, or whatever it is Richie drew on the paper, but it just seems to be so _shallow_. Riche had always doodled lewd drawings in the past, Mike couldn’t see what’s so embarrassing with another possible lewd drawing.

Back at the class, Mike would see glimpses of the doodle, only to be blocked again by Richie’s hand to draw a few more details. But from what he had seen so far, it doesn’t seem so bad. In fact, it was actually nice to see Richie not drawing a big cock for a change.

Riche stopped, but his eyes were still giving Mike this pleading look. And Mike, with his intentions way different than what’s currently happening, just stared at Richie confused, then at the paper, and back at Richie again.

With the still confused look on his face, Mike gave back the paper. “Are you sure you’re Richie?”  
 _Well, that’s the second person._

Richie snatched the paper from Mike’s grasp, who was surprised at Richie’s actions. If Mike was being honest, he’s not really that interested with whatever side of Richie this is.

“One and only,” Richie answered with a glare as he shoved the paper in his pocket, “And next time, can you please not piss me off.”

_That came out wrong._

_… No, that actually came out rude._

Richie thought for a second.

_It was still badass though._

Without waiting for a reply, Richie left for the next class. Which now looked stupid with Mike tailing behind him, maybe sharing a class with your friend isn’t always a good thing.

The thought of ignoring Mike in class is unheard off, but on the other hand he’s also not in the mood to acknowledge him. So he was left with two options, either look like a douche in front his friend by skipping class, or just suck it up and apologize to Mike in class.

Obviously he picked the easiest one.

“Richie, where the heck are you going? Chemistry is that way!”

* * *

Richie was hungry.

Nope, that was wrong, he was starving.

So by the time lunch rolled in, Richie didn’t bother to wait for Ben’s reply when he asked him to split his lunch with him. Instead he grabbed a fork and took a big mouthful of pasta. Ben just rolled his eyes, as if this was a normal occasion, and ate the apple that Richie ignored. 

Richie didn’t dare look at Mike, and Mike didn’t bother to bring up the little disagreement they had earlier, which is actually a Mike thing to do. For all he knows, he was the one who went out of line, not even aware that Richie was being an asshole.

“You skipped class,” Stan said.

_Right, we have the same class._

Beverley looked up from her food and met Richie’s eyes. And just by looking at her hazel eyes, Richie knew Beverley already had a hunch why. This is one of the reasons why he hated Beverley’s mother-like side.

Bill, who was sitting next to Richie, looked up from his food, “Me?” He asked pointing to himself.

“No, me,” Richie said not after swallowing the food in his mouth, “I know you want to be me Bill, but I think you should just stick to copying me.”

“Oh fuck off,” Eddie replied.

“Oooh, Eddie spaghetti is standing up for his boyfriend.”

“You still skipped class,” Stan reminded.

Richie could feel Mike’s eyes on him, but he didn’t say anything. _Of course he won’t say anything, he’s Mike._ “I just realized that education isn’t really for me,” he forced a smile.

“Or you’re just being lazy again,” Stan said nonchalantly.

Richie frowned, that Beverly and Mike instantly noticed. _Is that how he sees me?_

Then he realized something, _Idiot, that’s how everybody sees you since they met you._

“Yeah, maybe I am,” this time everyone exchanged weird looks, except for Stan who was dumbstruck with Richie’s reply and can only stare at him.

Mike doesn’t know what’s exactly happening, but he knows something isn’t right and he have a feeling it has something to do with the events that morning, which led him to the conclusion that it was his fault. That also led him to feel guilty for no reason at all.

Beverley, on the other hand, knows it’s got something to do with Stan, she just couldn’t think of any reason why Richie is having a negative Stan attack (Yes there are types of it, and it was Richie’s idea to give them names). Either Richie is the living proof that men can have that time of the month, or Richie just woke up at the wrong side of the bed.

“What?” It was Ben who asked.

“I said, maybe I am lazy.”

“Are you sure you’re Richie?” Eddie asked.

_Third,_

Richie dropped the fork he was holding and glared at Eddie, and by this point, everyone was sure something is not right at all. There must be a reason why Richie suddenly took a 180 so suddenly. 

“You always tell me to act normal, now I’m acting normal and now you’re questioning me? I’m not a fucking mind reader.”

“Ri-riche i-is thuh-there some-thing wr-wrong?” Bill asked.

Richie didn’t reply—he was pissed at everyone. But the worst part was: not knowing why he’s angry in the first place. Maybe it was the hunger, or maybe it was the lack of sleep, but he can’t really fool himself, he knows it's because of Stan.

He’s frustrated.

Sure his crush isn’t really a secret, sure he can let out his feelings through Beverley, and sure it was his choice to shut his mouth. But there’s always a limit in everything. Maybe, he’s just so used with pretending he didn’t noticed that he can’t pretend anymore.

Richie bit his mouth and smiled before putting up a show of fake laughter.

Beverley wasn’t fooled, and so was Mike, because like always, no one can stay oblivious forever.

“You should have seen your faces,” Richie guffawed, praying that they won’t see through him. “I should have taken a picture.”

“That wasn’t funny Richie,” Eddie retorted, “you really had me fooled you weird fuck.”

_I wasn’t fooling you guys._

“I got to agree with Eddie on this one,” Ben said, “I seriously thought you were angry at us.”

_Not at you, I’m angry at myself._

“I fucking hate you Tozier,” Stan said.

_You and me both,_

* * *

“Can we talk?”

Richie looked up from the comic book he was reading and saw Mike staring down on him. It was free period, and Richie found himself reading in the middle of a staircase. Don’t ask him how, he doesn’t know the answer.

Richie was hesitant, it’s not like he’s been avoiding Mike, but talking to him is the last thing he wanted to do at the moment.

“Yeah, sure,” Richie said closing the comic book in hand.

“I want somewhere more private.”

“Anywhere is good actually, as long as we use protection,” Richie winked

Mike didn’t say anything—he just led them both to the back of the school building. But all the while walking, neither of them spoke, which was something a Trashmouth wouldn’t do.

“So,” Mike said.

“So?”

“It’s either you’re going to tell me, or you’re going to act like you’re fine.”

Richie hitched up his bag, “You may have lost me there Mike.”

“Richie, I’m serious, it’s not my thing to be persistent so this is new to me, but I know shit when I see one,” Mike said, “So tell me before you lose your mind.”

Richie ran a hand over hair, which he managed to accomplish even though he never learned how to comb his hair. “Mike, seriously, you already lost me five seconds ago. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Either you tell me or I’ll ask Beverley,” Richie stiffened, “I’m pretty sure she knows.”

At that point, Richie dropped the ignorant act, “First of all, I seriously don’t want to talk about whatever it is you want to talk about. Second, this is not like you Mike.”

“I know,” he replied, “but at some point I need to change tactics. I know all I can do is to listen to you guys, that all I can do is to wait for one of you to tell me what’s wrong. But this time I can’t do that, especially you.

“I know Beverley knows, but apparently it’s not enough. This morning, I know it wasn’t an act, so you better tell me before you really screw up. A human can only bottle up their feelings for so long.”

Richie looked down and smiled before shoving his hands deep into his pockets. He’s not ready yet, maybe if Mike finds out on his own he’ll start talking to him about it, but he’s not ready to tell anyone yet. And besides, it’s not that big of a deal, right?

Richie looked up, “I think you misread everything Mike. Nothing’s wrong.”

But something _was_ wrong.

Richie frowned as he realized that his pockets were empty, except for his phone. He knew he placed the drawing in one of his front pockets this morning. 

_Did I drop it?_

But then again, it was in the same pocket with his phone, it must have fell out when Richie took it out. But, when? He took his phone out a dozen times it’s impossible to count.

Richie looked back at the school building, and mentally cursed. He can’t let anyone see that paper.

Richie turned back to Mike, “Mike I’m sorry but I really—”

But he was cut off as Mike was showing him the said paper. It was crumpled as hell, but nonetheless, it was the same one.

“You dropped this when you used your phone to calculate Eddie’s expense in his medicines back at lunch.”

Richie couldn’t say anything; all he can do was to stare at the paper.

“I want to know what’s wrong, I don’t want to assume.” 

From a far, the school bell was ringing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment and a kudos, it means a lot.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I'm being honest, I don't know where this story is heading. 
> 
> But that doesn't mean I'm out of ideas though. That's the beauty of this, I don't really think, I just write and the bam! A new chapter hahahaha.

#### Chapter 7

Mike knew what he did was somehow wrong; he was forcing Richie, when it was clearly established not to push him. But Mike knew Richie, maybe more than anyone. 

He always watched them, he memorizes them, and he studies them, for the reason that he wants to know them — they’re his first friends after all, no matter how creepy it sounds. But lately, as he watch Richie, he knew something’s wrong.

He also knew that he can’t wait for Richie to say anything about it.

He’ll keep everything away from them until he won’t be able to keep it anymore, until he breaks. Because that’s how Richie is, that’s who he is.

The moment Mike saw the paper on the floor, he realized it was the same one Richie was so eager to throw away. The Losers were already steps away from him so Mike didn’t bother to give it back. But here’s the thing, when humans pick up a folded paper, majority of them have the tendency to open and read it. And that was what Mike exactly did.

When he saw what was inside of it, he was confused. He never really thought that Richie actually had a knack for drawing, it was usually Bill who did the drawings. But that wasn’t the reason why he was confused, he was confused because nothing was really wrong with the drawing. Mike couldn’t wrap his head why Richie was so set on pulverizing it.

Then he noticed the binoculars, the curly hair, and the little bird book.

There’s a lot of things Mike is, and being stupid isn’t one of them.

That was how he ended up talking to Richie. Also, he found it unfair that he may know the cause of his friend’s stress when Richie was so obvious he doesn’t want anyone knowing.

Richie didn’t grabbed the paper, he just stared at it. There’s no use anyway, the damage was done.

“So?” Richie said, finally finding the strength to speak, “so what if I drew that, it’s not that big of a deal. You’re the one overreacting.”

Maybe he was overreacting, but whatever it is he was overreacting at was obviously tormenting Richie.

“Richie I don’t think this is a simple crush,” Mike said, letting his the hand holding the paper fall on his sides. There’s no point in beating the bush, they both know what’s going on anyway. “I—”

“Mike I’m not stupid, I know I’m already falling for him.”

The sudden declaration took Mike aback.

Richie knew it wasn’t a crush anymore, to be this devastated just because the person he like likes someone doesn’t fall on the category of a simple crush. Beverly knows, or Richie just assumed that she knows, considering that she practically knows everything.

“I’m already in the phase where everything is shit alright, I’m aware of that, so please let me move on in peace.”

“Alone?”

Richie clicked his tongue, “Beverly knows, so I know where to cry on,” He paused. “God that sounds so gay.”

“Which you are,” Mike said, for some reasons the conversation was turning light, something he wasn’t really expecting. “Wait, Beverly knows?”

“Correction: I’m Bi,” Richie adjusted his fingerprint covered glasses, “And yes, she knows, that girl knows everything anyway. It’s the reason why we’re always talking.”

* * *

_Talk about unexpected turn of events._

Richie sat on Mike’s bed, frowning at Beverly and Mike as they continued to share thoughts about Richie’s attraction to Stan. And by thoughts, it means talk about it as if Richie wasn’t in the room

“No, he already gave up,” Beverly said, she was sitting on Mike’s study table, her bag on her lap.

“Haven’t he thought that it might be him?” Mike asked, seated by the window on the chair of the study table.

“I already told him that, but he won’t listen,” Beverly ran a hand through her red hair, “but then again, this is Stan.”

“As far as I’m concerned I’m his best friend, so I know what I’m doing,” Richie said cutting in, “And also, I’m sitting right here!”

Beverly sighed and turned to look at Richie, “You won’t even listen to any of the things I say. All you can think of is that you don’t have a chance.”

“Spare me that talk Bev, we both know I don’t have a chance, you’re just too afraid to say it in front of my face,” It was Richie’s turn to run his fingers through his hair, he noted that he should really learn how to use a comb— only if he actually “You said it yourself: this is Stan.”

Richie turned to look at Mike.

“Don’t look at me, I just found out by accident,” Mike defended.

“And yet you confronted me about it,” Richie said.

“That was because it was obviously killing you,” Mike raised both of his hands on chest level with his palms facing the ceiling, as if to make a point. Which he is.

“Cause it is killing me!” Richie pointed out, “I’m broken hearted for heaven’s sake, who the hell sings Disney songs every minute and be positive in life when they get their hearts broken?”

Richie rubbed his temple and flopped down on Mike’s twin bed, “I don’t want advices, I don’t want your help, all I want is for you guys to listen to me,” he said as he pushed himself up, using his elbows as support, and looked at them. “Yes Mike, I’m including you, considering that you already know. Sure I can’t bring to tell the others about this, or to tell you guys—obviously, but now that you know, can you just listen to me? I just want this thing to pass, I know it’s not as simple as a phase, but in order not to lose Stan, I need to get over this, secretly.”

“Wait, so let me get this straight,” Mike leaned down and placed both his elbows on both knees, “You want to keep this to yourself, so it’s like nothing ever happened? Haven’t it ever occurred to you that you might not handle it?”

“And what if we never found out about it? Richie, you’ll break. Haven’t you learned anything from your parent’s divorce?” Beverly asked.

“Yah, I did learn something,” Richie said, “next time learn to hide it more properly and avoid breakdowns.”

Beverly threw her bag on Richie’s face.

* * *

Richie banged on the door of their house for the tenth time that evening. With a frustrated kick, Richie abandoned the locked door and sat on the front of their house grimly.

He knew his mother can be a pain most of the time, but leaving him locked out is beyond anything Richie ever experienced with Maggie. Okay, maybe she didn’t intended to, but she could have left him a text saying that she won’t be able to come home early. Considering that she did lost her key, forcing Richie to give her his only extra copy.

But, it’s not like he’s new to this. She always forgets that she has a son when she’s drunk—or busy _getting_ drunk, which means most of the time.

“Richie?”

Richie turned his head and saw Stan. He was on his bike, a plastic bag dangling on one of the handles. Studying its shape, Richie assumed it’s another one of Mrs. Uris’s baked goods in a container. The funny part was, he’s directly underneath a street lamp. It’s like he just came down from heaven in a bike.

“Stan the Man!” Richie exclaimed standing up, “I always knew that hat of yours is secretly a halo.”

Stan ignored his comment and dismounted his bike, “What the hell are you doing outside?”

“Oh you know, the usual,” Richie shrugged and patted his worn out jeans, “waiting for my knight and shining armor to walk by, or a female prostitute.”

“You got locked out didn’t you?”

Richie bit his tongue, he can’t really hide anything from Stan. Well, not _everything_ , just most of it.

“Or maybe I locked myself out,” as the last words were out of his mouth, Richie was internally cringing.

Stan rolled his eyes, “You can do better than that,” he said, “I told you not to give her your keys. For all we know she could be gone the whole weekend.”

Richie didn’t bother to reply, instead he just shrugged. There was no point in denying.

“C’mon,” Stan said, mounting his bike again, “You can sleep at my house for the night, considering that your mother forgot she even have a house.”

It wasn’t an unusual thing for Richie to spend the night at Stan’s, but that was back when they were still young and Richie was still ignorant with his feelings. Back then, they could share a bed without hesitation in Richie’s part, back then Richie would practically hoard Stan’s clothes due to being unable to bring his own, (that was before the sudden growth spurt).

Now, Richie’s not so sure.

“I’m not really packed for a sleepover, Stan the Man.”

“Coming from the guy who can survive three days without changing his underwear,” _Oh, that._ “It’s either out here in the cold, or inside a house. And besides, we have excess dinner and you seem pretty famished.”

Suddenly Richie was sitting in Stan’s bedroom floor, a fork and a Tupperware in hand. Obviously Richie is the living proof that a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Being Richie, he entered the Uris’s household and immediately grabbed a Tupperware from the fridge, and a fork before greeting Mr. and Mrs. Uris and proceeded his way to Stan’s Room.

Richie moaned with food in his mouth, “God, I miss your mom’s cooking,” he said mouthful.

Stan just shrugged as he rummaged through his drawer, “I’m going to wash off, don’t ruin anything.”

Richie frowned, “You still take a bath before sleeping?” he asked, “You know you don’t have to look presentable, I’m not picky in bed!” he called out as soon as Stan rolled his eyes and left the room.

Richie’s eyes roamed around Stan’s room, noting that everything was still the same. Sure, it’s not like he hadn’t visited Stan’s room for a long time, he was just here a few days ago, and a few more day before that. But, it had been awhile since he was alone in it.

Placing the Tupperware down, Richie sat down on Stan’s bed and ran his hand on the bed sheets. He lowered himself and closed his eyes before inhaling the smell of it, smells exactly like Stan. He gripped the sheets, wondering how it would feel if he was in this bed with Stan in his arms. Or better yet, with Stan sitting naked on his lap.

Richie felt a twitch in between his thighs.

“Richie?”

Richie snapped up, and swore that something cracked in his spinal cord, before landing his eyes on the person who spoke. Standing by the door way was Mrs. Uris, a weird look on her face. “I just came to check up on you,” she said and stared at Richie with a look on her face, “what were you doing?”

“Nothing,” he said a little too fast.

She wasn’t convinced, it was obvious. “Well alright,” then her eyes landed on the Tupperware, “I think I’ll take that.”

As the sight of the figure of Mrs. Uris disappeared with the Tupperware in hand, Richie collapsed on Stan’s bed. What he did was disturbing, even for him. He was this close in having an erection all because of Stan’s bed.

_Really? A bed? Can I be more pathetic?_

This is one of the reasons why being alone in Stan’s room is not a good idea. If being alone in his own room gives him thoughts worse than Christian Gray, what more if his alone in Stan’s room. Why is he always so weak when food is in the table?

Deciding that the bed was a little dangerous, Richie settled on Stan’s desk as he waited for him. They’re not ten anymore, he couldn’t just sleep on Stan’s bed like he used to. And besides, it’s already been proven, Stan would rather do something else that’s much more uncomfortable rather than actually spend it with Richie. True, Stan didn’t gave him any instructions about his sleeping arrangements, but it’s still safe to assume that he is not that welcome in the bed anymore. Especially with the previous antic he just did.

“You’re still up?”

Richie turned to look at the place where the voice had come from, but looking at Stan turned out to be major suicide. Stan was standing by the door with a towel on his waist, over his shoulder and on his dripping wet hair. Okay, maybe the need of three towels weren’t that necessary, and may kind of look weird. But in Richie’s defense, they were small.

“You could have at least waited for me to strip,” Richie joked, his insides dancing the conga.

Stan rolled his eyes and went straight for his wardrobe cabinet and threw a very blue pair of pajamas on the bed, followed by a pair of boxers—which may have been the cause of Richie’s face turning alarmingly red. Just when Richie thought he was going to change there, Stan grabbed his clothes and walked out of the room.

 _That’s right you idiot, you’re no ten years old anymore,_ Richie thought his heart hammering inside his chest, maybe doing a lousy job of dancing the conga, _of course he’s not going to change in front of you like old times._

When Stan came back, now fully dressed, he gave an unmistakable look of confusion at Richie. “Why are you not sleeping?” Stan asked, “Unless you’re planning to sleep on my desk.”

Richie blinked, okay maybe he’s wrong with the sleeping arrangement thing. Guess he didn’t misheard the first one.

“Oh you know, I was waiting for you,” Richie winked.

“Sleep on the floor,” Stan said making his way to his bed.

“I love it when you act so bitchy.”

Richie, with his insides practically jelly, slowly made his way on Stan’s bed. Suddenly well aware how he smell, and how he could still taste the food he ate from his mouth. But Stan doesn’t seem to notice Richie’s nervousness, considering that he was too busy dividing the bed with pillows.

“I still have boundaries,” Stan said, noticing Richie looking at the stack of pillows.

“You’re just playing hard to get,” Richie said, “Don’t worry, I like that.”

If he was pissed, or if he rolled his eyes, Richie didn’t saw it because Stan was already too busy trying to fall asleep. Richie took off his glasses and placed it on one of Stan’s bedside table.

Staring at the blank ceiling of Stan’s bedroom, Richie thought if he was actually lucky falling for his best friend. It’s been killing him every time he sees him, being so close, yet so out of reach. But if they weren’t friends, he wouldn’t be able to this kinds of stuff. Which was something good right?

Then again, there’s a stack of pillows currently taking most of his side of the bed.

Shaking the thoughts out of his head, Richie changed to a much comfortable position before closing his eyes. Only, the position was making his right arm numb. He decided to change and face the wall, but then his left arm was the one getting numb.

Sighing, he laid down on his stomach with his face facing the wall. But his neck was hurting with the current position. Richie frowned, this is the first of which he’s having a hard time falling asleep. Usually ones he hit the bed, he’d be out in less than a minute.

He turned his face towards Stan, who was laying still on his side of the bed, his back at Richie. Clicking his tongue, Richie figured why he’s having such a hard time. Suddenly, he was too aware with the alarming rate of the beating of his heart. In fact, his heart was all he can hear.

Taking a deep breathe, Richie tried to change position, only for Stan to bolt right up with an unmistakable glare aiming at him, “Will you quit it?!” Stan hissed.

Richie, who was still semi-faced down, blinked at the blurry image of Stan, “I thought you were asleep.”

Stan crossed his arms over his chest, “Are you kidding me? How could I sleep when you keep moving on your side of the bed?”

Richie sat up and grabbed his glasses before shoving it back on his face, “How should I know that?”

Sighing, Stan ran a hand through his curls, “Stay here,” He said as he swung his legs off the bed.

“Where are you going?” Richie wondered if he pissed him enough to sleep on the couch, “You going to masturbate or something?” _yeah Richie, way to go to make things more awkward._

“Shut up and stay there,” And then he was gone.

Richie sighed, no denying it, he pissed him off. Which wasn’t really a hard thing to do, he’s Richie after all, and he’s Stan. 

Not long after, Stan came back with a bottle on his hand. Even with the light coming from the lamp post near Stan’s bedroom window, Richie still needed to squint at the bottle, considering that his eyes were crap.

“My uncle gave this to my dad weeks ago,” Stan said sitting down on the edge of the bed, “I don’t think my dad will notice it gone anyway.”

Suddenly, the bottle was suddenly in high definition, “Is that vodka?” Richie asked.

“Yes it is vodka,” Stan answered, as if he’s been practicing it for a while, “and no I still don’t like drinking, yes I’m still Stan, not an alien parasite that took over your best friend’s body.”

With his free hand, Stan it through his curls again, “It’s just that things have been shit, don’t ask me why. And I just want—well, it’s not like I always want to get drunk, I just thought it’s a good idea tonight—I mean, it’s not a school night and I’m at home, it’s not a bad idea. You know what never mind.”

Richie found himself smiling even wider at Stan who continued to ramble on, he found it extremely cute. Putting the matters in his own hand, Richie grabbed the bottle of vodka and took a swig.

He scrunched his face as he felt the alcohol slide down his throat before grinning, “Now that’s a drink.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was not able to update for awhile because school just started here and Asian parent are very strict so yeah, I'm following a very strict schedule right now hahahaha.
> 
> Still don't know if I'm going to add some sexual content here, but if I happen to write (which I suck at by the way), it might be on the next chapter.
> 
> No really, I'm serious.
> 
> Edit: Okay, I didn't edit the story so expect a few grammatical errors (because no matter how many times I reread it, I always find something wrong), one of you pointed out that I ended up double publishing chapter 7. I just came to fix it, though I ended up deleting the comment in the process. But whoever you are, thanks!


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